


The unseeing

by KuroCyou



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Flowers, Gardening, Gardens, I had this in mind for a couple of days and surprisingly got the inspiration to write it, M/M, Not Betaed, Post Battle of Five Armies, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 01:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2211300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuroCyou/pseuds/KuroCyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a place in Erebor Thorin Oakenshield hadn’t really thought of until he met Bilbo Baggins.<br/>As the journey went on, as Bilbo Baggins slowly gained his respect, is admiration, his affection, Thorin had started to think if Bilbo would have liked it.<br/>He wanted him to see the garden inside Erebor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The unseeing

**Author's Note:**

> Hullo, it's-a-me, Kuro, rising again to publish a probably not so good ficlet. I still hope you'll like it though :)  
> You can find me and my fanarts on www.kurosmind.tumblr.com!

There was a place in Erebor Thorin Oakenshield hadn’t really thought of until he met Bilbo Baggins.

What he had always remembered of his ancient home had been its carven stone, the halls glimmering with gold and rich with engravings and sculptures, the grandeur of the caves where dwarven skills merged with the bare, rough, beautiful natural rock, the echoing of the pickaxes down in the mines and of the hammers in the forges. 

There was a different place in the Kingdom though, rarely visited, but still well kept. He himself had gone there only a couple of times in his life, scampering around the Mountain with Frerin in their youth to escape the etiquette lessons. 

On the east side of the mountain, centuries ago a patch of the rock vault had collapsed, letting the sun and fresh air into the cave. Some of the dwarves had thought to use that sunlight to built a garden, when relations with elves and men weren't so tense. It was wild, hardly close to what an elf or even a hobbit would have built. But it was green, and bright, with the light reflecting on the moist rock, full of wild flowers, and smelt of soil and fresh grass.

As the journey went on, as Bilbo Baggins slowly gained his respect, is admiration, his affection, Thorin had started to think of showing the garden to this creature of the earth. He started to wonder if Bilbo would have liked it, if he would have liked to grow his flowers there, if he would want to trim that wilderness and put order to it or if he’d rather leave it wild and spontaneous.

If he would have liked to share it with Thorin, to spend time there together, to teach him to love the nature that he was so fond of. Thorin would have certainly loved to.

And now Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, went everyday to find his hobbit into the garden. It was still wild, but there was a little spot in the center, where the light hit the strongest, where bright, new and foreign flowers grew. He spent every free moment he could find searching for a way to get the ones that grew in the far West, in the Shire, and in every part of Middle Earth, to gift them to his beloved, and like always he was there among them.

"I brought you flowers, Bilbo" he said sofly, a small, sad smile on his face. "Camellias." 

Bilbo Baggins didn’t reply.

He never did.

Thorin knelt down and worked to plant them into the earth, trying to remember the instruction he received from the seller. While digging into the soil - now a familiar and soothing action, much like Bilbo always said it was - he spoke of the Kingdom, of how things were going into the Mountain, of how the rebuilding proceeded, and quite proudly announced that he managed to go through a whole meeting with the elves without throwing any axe at them. But mostly he spoke of the garden, describing every little detail he could catch, every change he noticed from the day before.

And if his voice sometimes came out chocked and broken, as he told his One of the garden he would have loved so much, well, there was no one there to hear him.

Because, in the end, Bilbo had never seen it. Thorin had never shown him the bright greenery, the soft grass, the colorful yet sturdy nordic flowers. He had only been able to gift him his last place to rest.

It only seemed the right thing to do, since although he couldn’t see it, Bilbo Baggins would spent the eternity in that garden, silent and unmoving, the only mark of his presence the stone embedded into the earth among the flowers, warm to the touch under the afternoon sun.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very sorry if there are any mistakes.  
> So in my mind Bilbo died in the battle of five armies protecting Thorin, passing quickly in Thorin's arms. The king himself will never know if he did head his desperate, choked apology.  
> Oh, and you know what is the meaning of the camellias? Eternal devotion. I'm so proud of me


End file.
